


This Love

by profound-boning (farawaystardust)



Series: Dean Winchester Loves Taylor Swift [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Actor Dean, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Closeted Dean, Deaf Character, Dean Comes Out, Dean in Glasses, Director Dean, Flashbacks, Gay Castiel, Inspired by Music, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Miscommunication, Pansexual Character, Second Chances, Songfic, Supportive Sam, Tattoo Artist Castiel, Tattooed Castiel, Tattooed Dean, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:43:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9118228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farawaystardust/pseuds/profound-boning
Summary: “Can you tell us a little about these tattoos, Dean?” Tracy continues. “That pair of lips, for example?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> So Kat and I were talking about how Channing Tatum was in an interview years and years ago and told a story about an ex-boyfriend and she goes
> 
> omg now i just want the fic where dean is some kind of movie celeb or smth and has struggled with his sexuality for years and hasn't ever even told his family  
>  but he did date cas long ago when they were kids and they finally reconnect  
>  and then in an interivew dean is all just like, blah blah my boyfriend  
>  and acts suuuuuuuuuper chill about it  
>  even tho inside he's going !!!!!!! I AM DOING A SCARY THING  
> 
> 
> We tossed around lots of ways this basic prompt could play out (soap operas? family drama? Twitter humor?) and decided to do a “write-off” basically so we could fangirl over the other’s work ♥ Hers is right over [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9117844?style=creator) and it's amazing ♥ Leave kudos or comments and holler at us on tumblr! 
> 
> rated Mature for cursing and one short scene of very mild sexual content

**:** **_flickered in my mind for only you / but you're still gone, gone, gone_ ** **:**

“I have these handy notes right in front of me,” hostess Tracy Bell says, indicating the cardstock in her hand. “But I think we all would prefer to hear it from the source. Dean, what is your latest film about?”

The audience applauds, clearly in agreement. Dean can’t help but smile at them all (the ones he can see anyway, damn the bright lights). He adjusts his glasses and turns back to his interviewers.

“‘A New Path’ is about a young man attending college in the big city. I knew Cesar Cuevas was perfect for this role the moment we saw him. His character Hugo is this bright-eyed, easy-going, friendly guy who wants to focus on his studies and maybe go to a few shows, parties, stuff like that. He ends up getting totally blown away by his artistic and adventurous roommate who, over the course of four years, becomes his best friend and then his boyfriend. The problem is that Hugo is afraid of what people back home will say. He’s anxious about having fallen in love with a man, and it does become a conflict in a few specific ways. In the end, though, he chooses to fight for the love that they have found.”

Tracy has her hand placed over her heart, her brown eyes large with emotion. Dean knows it’s a compelling plot. That exact spiel has been kept as close to the original as possible, because why mess with a good thing?

Victor Henriksen, co-host, raises his hand to quiet the audience. “I, for one, cannot wait to watch this new trailer.” On cue, the lights go down.

Watching just this much of the film, even this tiny amount of the on-screen (and off-screen, if Dean’s being honest) chemistry that Cesar and his co-star Jesse share, makes him emotional, too. Watching the words that his best friend wrote and that he brought to life on camera is invigorating in a way that still surprises Dean.

The lights come back on in the studio. Cheers and applause echo from the audience and Tracy and Victor are smiling broadly at him. Dean shifts in his chair and nudges his glasses, just for something to do with his hands; he’s always happy to receive positive reactions to his work.

“Just in time for our holiday moviegoers,” Victor smiles at the audience. “So, what is it that brought you to this movie in particular? It’s quite a bit different from your first.”

“Y’know Vic, that was the initial pull for sure. After doing an action-driven, CGI and fight choreography movie, I wanted to try my hand at something a little more down to earth,” Dean explains. “Something a little more like storytelling.”

“The film is being heralded by critics as this generation’s great queer film. What do you have to say about that?” Tracy wonders.

“Well, I don’t know if it’s the biggest thing ever or if it’s going to go down in history or anything like that. That’s not really why I made it. From the moment Charlie Bradbury gave me with her pitch, I knew this was a story I wanted a hand in telling. No matter what the results would be, I wanted to make this story a reality.”

“And now it is.” Victor flashes him a warm smile. Dean returns it and nods.

He’d really poured his everything into 'A New Path' over the past year. When he bumped into the fiery runner on the set of his last film, their friendship began because of the Set Gaydar To Stunning shirt she was wearing and the discussion about Gay Dad Sulu and queer representation that followed. She had casually mentioned her idea for a film about college kids accepting their sexuality, and Dean instantly loved it. When he brought it to the studio heads for bidding, he fought to be kept on the project as director.

It’s amazing to think that after a chance encounter that he and Charlie are now lifelong friends. She had written a script that brought Dean laughter and tears countless times. They approved the casting and locations together, sat through hours of editing together; the film had really been a labor of love.

Charlie also happens to be the only person who knows what really makes this film so important to Dean.

“You, my friend, are everywhere lately,” Tracy is saying, tapping her neat navy blue nails against the cards in her hand. “Everyone wants you for their cover model, right? Am I right, audience?”

The backlighting in the studio changes, they must be showing an image on the big screen behind him. The hooting and hollering from the audience is a dead giveaway; Dean knows exactly which photo is currently displayed on all the screens in the room, and also to the viewers at home. He resists the urge to fiddle with his glasses again, instead, he looks down at his hands in his lap all while blushing at the noisy reaction to the photo.

Tracy laughs and pats his arm in a friendly way. Victor just offers him a fist bump.

“Can you tell us a little about these tattoos, Dean?” Tracy continues. “That pair of lips, for example?” The audience titters.

“Well, it’s pretty much what it looks like,” Dean tells them with a smirk. He’s not ashamed of his body art. “That’s actually my first one. My boyfriend in college was an aspiring tattoo artist and he was working at a parlor near our school. He designed it and did the work himself before the break for the winter holidays in our junior year and—and yeah.” He finishes weakly. The blush is back, burning him up where the skin of his neck meets the collar of his shirt.

“That’s great!” Victor says, rather quickly. “Very personal, then.”

“Definitely,” Dean agrees, ignoring his racing heart. “Later on when I got these done—” he indicates the letters H O L Y and L O V E tattooed across his knuckles “—I was thinkin’ about him.”

 _Oh my fuck, Dean, shut up,_ his brain shrieks. He hadn’t been planning to reveal so much private information today but his big mouth had other ideas, and the memory of those gorgeous hands creating art on his skin made his lips loose.

“That’s so sweet,” Tracy gushes, bringing Dean back to the present moment. “I love a tattoo with a good story. You’ve told stories about your other ones in previous interviews, as our audience surely knows. So let’s move back to talking about your films, shall we?” And with that Tracy, like the calm and collected goddess that she is, transitions from a big huge personal slip back to the purpose of the interview: Dean’s blossoming career.

Dean fields questions about returning to acting, other directing opportunities, and the usual questions about who he was wearing at his last red carpet event and how his cat Daedalus is doing. He gives his prepared answers, shows a picture of his boy curled up in the sunshine, schmoozes the hosts, and charms the audience. And desperately tries not to freak out.

 **:** **_this love left a permanent mark / this love is glowing in the dark_ ** **:**

Snow is falling outside their dorm room window. They’re entwined on their bed; Cas lays with his head on Dean’s bare chest, tracing lines with his fingertips down Dean’s soft torso.

“You’re so beautiful,” Cas whispers, drawing a circle above Dean’s hip bone. Dean brings the hand he’s holding to his mouth for a kiss.

“You are too, Cas. S’why I get to call you angel.” He can feel rather than see Cas smirk.

After another few quiet minutes, Cas speaks up again. “Are you still wanting to get a tattoo?”

Dean doesn’t move his eyes from their ceiling, vision blurred without his glasses. “Yeah, but I dunno what I’d get first. You’ve given me so many good ideas.”

Cas hums. “How do you feel about something more personal?”

Dean doesn’t have to wonder about what he means for long. Cas digs a little notebook out from his jeans pocket and flips open to a page filled with sketches of lips. Soft-looking and pursed.

“Maybe a lighter shade of pink, not like baby pink though. Something dusty,” Cas muses.

“Black.” Dean interrupts him. “I don’t want it to fade, or to blend in. Should be noticeable.”

Cas is looking at him with big eyes. “You mean it? If people see it—.”

“Let ‘em.” Dean wraps his arms around Cas’s neck. His heart is beating frantically at the thought that someone might actually see it and question it, but how many people see him shirtless anyway, besides Cas? And anyway it’s not a big deal. Not like Cas’s name or anything. Just… his art.

The next week, after the whirlwind of finals has passed, Dean finds himself pushing open the door to the tattoo parlor where Cas is working part-time. Cas only had half as many finals as Dean, since he has to balance his art classes with this job. So Dean is happy to get to see his boyfriend again, without the stress of his final projects and papers.

“Hey you,” he smiles warmly at Cas, who is seated behind the counter.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas gently squeezes his hand. “You ready?”

Dean nods, and Cas gets up to turn off the OPEN sign and close the front end of the shop.

They move to the back, where Cas instructs Dean to remove his shirt and lay down. He ignores Dean’s flirtatious smirk and wink at the direction, and prepares his instruments.

He presses several kisses to the area above Dean’s hip before cleaning it. After showing Dean the sketch on transfer paper, he carefully applies the design to Dean’s skin.

“This will hurt a bit, and I’m sorry. But it’s going to look wonderful,” Cas reminds him gently before starting up the gun.

The whir of the machine and the soft music Cas is playing from his stereo are the only noises in this tiny room. Dean grunts a bit when the pain increases, but Cas soothes him and drops kisses on his bicep or thigh.

The whole thing is finished in less than forty-five minutes, and Cas carefully wipes him off and wraps it up.

Dean finds himself wincing whenever he moves wrong over the next two days, but Cas is always there to shower him with affection and keep the new art healthy.

The night before Dean is going to leave to go back to Kansas for Christmas, Cas deems the tattoo healed enough to remove the bandages.

Dean would be lying if he said he didn’t preen every time Cas couldn’t stop himself from touching the space now occupied by an image of his lips. Dean had responded by kissing each of Cas’s fingertips. Cas had kissed him breathless.

Soon enough they were panting, cushioned by soft flannel sheets. Dean on his back with Cas above him, inside him, all around him. They moved together, moaning in tandem and climaxing within moments of each other. Cas had wrapped himself around Dean’s back and caressed the mark on his hip. They murmured sweet nothings to each other until they slept, and Dean felt in that moment that there was nothing more perfect or more pure than their love.

He had spent the whole Christmas break secretly touching his tattoo, sexting Cas, and imagining what it would be like to bring Cas home with him as his boyfriend. To be accepted by Sammy and his dad and never have to hide this part of himself again.

Their fourth year passed all too quickly, and Dean graduated in the spring while Cas planned out his next two semesters. They promised each other that the separation wouldn’t destroy them.

Even when Dean decided that relocating to L.A. would be his next move, Cas swore they would be able to make it work.

Dean was lucky to find good work, to meet good people, and to start his career slowly but surely.

He was less lucky in October when Cas ended it. Told him some distances can’t be overcome. That sometimes people love each other but they can’t be together. That Cas cannot be with someone who wants to keep them a secret.

So Dean let him go.

Two years later he sat in another tattoo parlor in L.A. getting flames up his left forearm, thinking about his mom. Another year and he added abstract artwork on one shoulder. And so on.

Six years after their break-up he got 'holy love' on his hands, a memory of his angel and their bond.

Ten years later and he’s back to wondering what happened to Castiel and what might have been if he hadn’t been so scared.

 **:** **_this love is good, this love is bad / this love is alive back from the dead_ ** **:**

Dean is totally freaking out.

He never really liked the idea of having a driver, preferring to take his Impala everywhere he goes. So Dean spends the hour driving from the TV studio back to his apartment dwelling on what’s just happened.

He essentially just came out on national television.

Sure, the tabloids had already dug up his past girlfriends. His ex Cassie Robinson had been friendly but firm in her 'leave me alone' stance, and Dean really respected her for that. Others had been less polite. Some had faked details or faked the relationship as a whole, which never ceased to surprise him.

But he’d only ever had one boyfriend, and he had never come forward about anything. Not that Dean was ever afraid that Castiel Novak would publicize their relationship to the press. And not because Dean is (was?) deep, deep, _very deep_ in the closet, but because Cas is an actually decent human being.

So that bit of information had never actually come to light in public before now. Or in private, frankly.

One late night of work on 'A New Path' had turned into a night of heart to hearts spurred on by whiskey, and Dean had told the entire story to Charlie.

Falling in love with Cas when they were in college was the scariest and the best thing that has ever happened to Dean. And he’d never told a soul, for the same reasons as the protagonist in his latest film didn’t.

But in contrast to his film’s characters, Dean’s ending turned out more like 'Bisexual Man Dumped By Boyfriend and Never Comes Out To Family and Attempts to Forget What Love Felt Like.'

Fortunately, Cas helped him recognize the repression he’d been hiding under and to confront his internalized biphobia and to feel confident in their relationship. Unfortunately, in the end, Cas decided that long-distance-closeted-boyfriends sucked and he went back to his life.

Dean pulls into his designated parking spot and leans his head against the steering wheel and breathes deep. Cas was able to go back to his life because he was living his truth. Dean, on the other hand, buried all the joy and love that had come from their partnership and went back into the closet. Nearly ten years went by before he opened up to Charlie, and today he opened up again on _national television._

He hasn’t looked at his phone at all. He’s reasonably sure all of the people still in his life are respectful and considerate human beings, but there’s no way of knowing what goes on in people’s minds. There’s no way Dean can predict what’s coming next.

‘Heat of the Moment’ by Asia sounds from his jacket pocket. Without even glancing at the device, Dean brings it up to his ear. “Hey, Sammy.”

“Hi, Dean. I would ask you what’s up or how are you but since you’re still sitting in your car, I’ll assume it’s not awesome. Come up.”

Little brat hangs up the phone. He must have seen the online chatter (Sam has always been the one more invested in gossip blogs than Dean) and let himself into Dean’s penthouse apartment with his spare key.

Dean heaves a sigh and hoists himself out of the front seat. He trudges to the elevator and too soon he’s pulling open his front door.

Sam stands in the doorway to the kitchen (has he seriously gotten taller from the last time Dean saw him? Can thirty-year-olds _have_ growth spurts in the span of a month?) with a case of their favorite beer and a smile.

“Hey again,” Dean quips, shrugging out of his jacket and then extending a hand towards his brother in the universal sign for ‘hand me that drink.’ He leaves his nice shoes at the door, too, awaiting his next public appearance.

“So that was… an exciting interview,” Sam hedges. They move to sit down on the couch.

Dean huffs. “That’s one word for it.” He takes a sip.

“It’s a good thing though. Maybe—maybe it doesn’t feel like that right now, but it’s good.”

“Sam,” Dean sigh, leaning back into the leather. “It’s—. I’m not really—. Okay, maybe I am a little worried about it. I don’t wanna be ashamed though. But I—I worry.”

Sam nods. “That’s totally normal, man. Really, it is. Eileen was super nervous about telling me.”

Dean’s head whips around to look at his brother. “What?”

One corner of Sam’s mouth quirks up in a little smile. “Eileen Leahy. Love of my life. Deaf. Pansexual.” Dean kind of stares at him for a moment. “She’s attracted to all genders; gender identity has never really been a factor in her attraction to other people. She came out to me about a year into our relationship,” Sam chuckles. “And she told me, she’s like ‘I know you’re not a close-minded asshole because, well, it would’ve come up before now. I’m just nervous about whether or not this will change anything between us.’ And frankly, it has a little bit. We talk about sexuality and social issues related to that a bit differently now; ‘cause now it’s more personal. After the interview this morning, I asked her if I could tell you about it, and she said it’s fine. If it’ll help.” Sam pauses and smiles at Dean. “I had thought you might be attracted to men, Dean, but I didn’t want to assume. But yeah I had thought about it before. And I want you to know that it never, ever made me feel any differently about you. You’re still my big brother. You’re still the most annoying person in my life as well as my hero and my rock. It’s totally normal that you’re worried about coming out on television, but you don’t have to be worried about coming out to me.”

At the conclusion of Sam’s little speech, Dean slides over and wraps his arms around his baby brother. He’ll never admit to being misty-eyed. He’s mostly just grateful that Sam always seems to know exactly what to say.

“So you,” he slides back and adjusts his glasses once more. “You, uh, you knew? Before?”

Sam shrugs and takes a sip of his beer. “I mean, I had seen you look at other guys before, in a way that seemed more appreciative or maybe desirous than just normal friendly looking. And then there’s Doctor Sexy and Harrison Ford.” Dean’s ears heat up. “But mostly it was—. Okay and, seriously, like I said, I was never like, ‘oh Dean’s gay he just doesn’t know it yet’ because that’s fucked up but… It was Cas. Your phone calls home were different after you two really became friends. You—. The way you talked about him. It was different.”

Dean just nods, looking down at the bottle in his hands. “He made _me_ different, Sam. He—he helped me understand things and think about stuff in a new way and—. He was different.”

Sam takes another sip. “Do you want to tell me what happened? Because ‘A New Path’ is pretty obvious to me now. But the ending…” He trails off. Dean pushes his glasses back up his nose but doesn’t make eye contact.

“Yeah, obviously we—. I changed the ending. Charlie knows,” he adds. “Told her late one night after a lot of whiskey. Why I liked her story so much.” He sees Sam nod in his peripheral vision. “I don’t even know where he’s at anymore. He dumped me a few months—” _twenty-two weeks and three days_ “—after my graduation. And you know he was never one for social media. I never saw him again.”

Sam doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to.

They drink another bottle each and watch TV together until Sam makes noises about heading home.

“Today’s my early-off day,” he says, referring to his schedule at the university. “Eileen’s got a night class and I like to be there when she gets back.”

“No worries man.” Dean pats him on the shoulder. “I should probably, y’know, turn my phone on and actually deal with this.”

Sam returns the pat and transforms it into a hug. Dean goes willingly.

After the door shuts behind his brother, Dean flops gracelessly onto the couch. This apartment is lovely but lonely, even more so after Sam or Charlie or another friend leaves it, taking their warmth and laughter with them.

As promised, he reaches into his pants pocket and turns on his cell phone.

The first thing is a few text messages from his agent.

 **From: Benny** **3:14 pm  
Well that’s one way to do that.**

 **From: Benny** **3:16 pm  
Don’t you worry bout a thing though. I’m already seeing plenty of supportive reactions and follow ups from most. I’ll pass along the messages. We can do without the negative ones.**

 **From: Benny** **3:17 pm  
Almost forgot: Love you brother. That hasn’t changed.**

It’s comforting, knowing that he won’t lose Benny, knowing that he’ll smooth over any bumps with regard to his career.

Next is a message from Charlie, followed by a string of rainbow heart emojis.

 **From: Queen Charlie** **3:20 pm  
WOW. Good for you dude. You deserve to live as openly as you want to. I am so proud of you. Let’s meet up this weekend?? xo**

There are other messages, all supportive and caring; from Cesar and Jesse, Lisa his first ever co-star, Cain his directing mentor, other co-stars and crew mates like Jenna, Aaron, Max, and Alicia. From Ash, Garth, Jody, and Donna from back home.

No messages from his dad or from Bobby. That’s kind of worrying, but Dean resolves not to let it get to him too much. He’s got so much love and support from other people in his life.

He’s an adult man. He won’t be ashamed of who he is and who he loves. It’s not worth it.

Dean only wishes he had been able to come to that conclusion during the best time of his life—the years he spent loving Castiel Novak.

 **:** **_when you’re young you just run / but you come back to what you need_ ** **:**

The weekend passes in a tranquil manner. Charlie does come over so they can marathon Star Wars (the originals, not those stupid prequels, although they do set a date to see 'Rogue One' again ASAP) and Sam and Eileen come over for their weekly Saturday brunch, during which nobody talks about the interview (and Dean is grateful for it).

Benny and Dean have a little conference and decide together that Dean doesn’t need to make any follow up comments on the interview for now. They discuss Dean’s comfortable boundaries with his newly “out” status and come up with a game plan for future interviews. Then they forget about working to drink a few beers and discuss the upcoming holiday. Benny and his wife of two years Andrea will go up north for Christmas and get a little cabin in the mountains.

Dean will probably spend it the same way he has for the past few years now: dinner with Sam and Eileen on Christmas Eve and then open gifts with them in the morning. Bobby will call them from Ellen’s Roadhouse in Sioux Falls around noon, and he’ll get to chat with Jo and Ash and the gang if they’re around. Maybe Ash will be able to set up a video call, but Bobby prefers regular phone calls, as does John.

A pit of dread grows whenever Dean thinks about his father’s reaction to the interview, so he distracts himself from that possibility as much as he can.

One such distraction includes a 'Doctor Sexy' marathon.

In the middle of the Dr. Sexy and Nurse Piccolo’s big reunion scene, his phone blasts Sam’s ringtone.

“Hey, what’s—?”

“Hi, Dean,” Sam replies quickly. “Come out with me? What are you doing right now?”

“Uh,” Dean stammers at his brother’s rapid-fire questions. “Watching TV. I could go out though?”

“Great.” Sam exhales harshly. “Great. Okay. See you, um, see you at the Bee’s Knees? In an hour?”

“Sure, Sam,” Dean answers slowly. “What—?”

“Okay, see you then! Bye!” And with that, Sam hangs up.

 _All right then,_ Dean thinks, but he still hauls himself upright and trudges into his bedroom to get ready to meet Sam at their favorite sandwich shop.

A decent pair of jeans, boots since it’s cooler out now, a dark red shirt under a bright blue and green flannel, and his signature black leather jacket with the cross stitch pattern on the shoulders. He never knows if he’ll be photographed when he’s out, so it’s better to be safe and look nice than not.

The host welcomes him warmly and nods toward the secondary dining space, where Dean and Sam always eat at the corner booth.

He’s arrived first, and idly flips through the menu he knows so well to pass the time.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Dean pushes his glasses up his nose and lifts his head to smile at Sam.

And indeed Sam is walking toward him, but right next to him is none other than Castiel Novak.

Dean feels his heart stop in his chest. He touches his glasses again just for the physical sensation, the reminder that he’s really here, that Sam and—and _Cas_ are really there.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam says gently. “So uh—” He half waves at Cas, who is standing just behind him, now that they’ve stopped moving. “Yeah. He sent me a message and—. If you want him or like both of us to leave, that’s cool. Just—. I thought—”

“S’fine.” Dean feels like he’s in a daze. He can’t take his eyes off of Cas.

Cas looks kind of short compared to Sam, but Dean thinks there’d only be a few inches between the two of them. His dark hair has gotten even messier and those blue eyes Dean still dreams about are just as bright as ever. He’s got an eyebrow piercing as well as a septum and a small plug in each earlobe. Dean can see the honeycomb design on his right forearm disappearing under the sleeve of his thin tan jacket; God, how Dean loved that tattoo. He used to lay on Cas’s chest and trace the lines over and over again. He thinks he can see another piece poking up above of the collar of Cas’s white button down.

It occurs to him that he’s been staring at Cas for a while without actually saying anything.

He tries to greet them, but his voice fails. He blushes (and misses the way that Cas does, too) and clears his throat.

“Heya, Cas.” It feels good to say.

“Hello, Dean.”

God, how he missed that voice. He had saved a couple of voicemails for the first few years (longer than he’d like to admit) so he knows for sure that Cas’s voice is even deeper now.

“I’m gonna wait a bit,” Sam informs them, looking from Dean to Cas and back again. “I’ll go and sit up front. But I—I just wanna make sure you’re all right with this, Dean.”

“Okay, Sam.” Dean agrees without looking at him. “I’ll, uh, come find you. If I need ya.”

“Okay,” Sam repeats and walks backward a few steps before turning around to find a seat at the front of the restaurant.

Cas, for his part, hasn’t taken his eyes off of Dean either.

"Can I—?" Cas gestures to the seat on the other side of Dean's booth.

"Oh, uh, yeah." Cas lowers himself carefully. His eyes linger where Dean's hands are folded on the table in front of him.

They sit in a tense silent staring contest for a couple of minutes, at which point their waitress Ellie arrives. She knows Dean from the numerous occasions he and Sam have dined here, and they know they can count on her not to act out or let the press inside.

"Hi, Dean," she greets cheerfully. "Hi, Dean's friend," she nods at Cas. The pair break eye contact to fumble with their menus. "What can I get for you?"

"C—Can I please get my usual Ellie?"

"Sure thing," she tells Dean with a smile.

"Can I try the ABC?" Cas asks her quietly.

"Absolutely. Two ABCs coming right up!" Ellie departs for the kitchen and Dean and Cas continue to avoid looking at each other.

Eventually, Cas sighs and runs a hand through his hair where it’s longer on top than it is on the sides.

“I found Sam on Facebook,” he tells Dean. “I—I doubted you had yours anymore, and I didn’t think you’d personally check your Twitter account for messages.” His perfect pink mouth lifts up on one side. “You always thought the messaging thing was pretty stupid anyway.”

Dean smiles at the memory. It took him a while but he was finally able to look back on their memories with joy. Bittersweet, but joyful nonetheless.

“I’m surprised you got a Facebook,” Dean tells him honestly, still smiling.

Cas looks up at him. “I’ve only had it about three years now. Since I had to start a page for my shop.”

“You finally got your own shop, Cas? That’s amazing, man.” Dean replies, honestly so happy for the boy who spent hours sketching designs for his own tattoo parlor. Who was always reading the magazines and meeting other artists, not to mention the hours he spent working on his portfolio and practicing new styles.

“Yeah, I got it,” Cas affirms with his own brilliant smile. “It’s—. We’re in San Francisco, actually. Me and the shop, I mean. I’ve got some other artists with me and I go to those conventions I used to talk about and—. I love it.” He’s flushed with pride, and Dean thinks Cas looks more beautiful than ever right now.

“I’m so proud of you, Cas. You really did it.”

“Thank you. And you!” Cas gestures at him and laughs. “You’re a star, Dean. You’ve done incredible work and now you’re directing, too. I am so happy for you, truly.” Dean’s heart turns over at the sincerity in Cas’s voice, in his face.

“Thanks, Cas,” he replies and adjusts his glasses again.

Ellie reappears, bearing plates with their sandwiches and two sides of fresh potato chips. She’d brought Cas a coffee since that’s Dean’s usual and he accepts it. Turns out they both still take them the same—with two sugars.

This time the quiet that falls is more comfortable. But a question still presses at Dean’s mind.

“You said you found Sam on Facebook,” he begins quietly. “Why?”

Cas keeps his eyes on his sandwich as he chews. Finally, he admits, “I watched the interview.”

“Oh.” It’s all Dean can think to say. Obviously, it was on a television show so anyone could have seen it. And he never said Cas’s name, but of course, the man himself would have immediately recognized the tattoo and—oh, God. When Dean told Tracy and Victor about the piece on his fingers. He drops his hands quickly beneath the table.

“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Cas says. “I just—. You’ve never told anyone. The press, I mean. About that tattoo. And—” He touches his own fingers distractedly. “And they said you—. I mean. Online. They said you’d never—. That you had just come out. No one knew before. About me.”

Dean twists his fingers together in his lap and stares hard at his plate.

“No one knew, Cas. You knew that. Back then.” Dean feels guilt rise in his throat. “Not even Sam knew until the interview.”

Cas munches on a few potato chips in the silence that follows. Dean wishes for so many things every time he thinks about their relationship: the secrecy, the shame. He wishes he could go back and talk to nineteen-year-old-Dean and tell him everything he’s learned in the past ten years, especially in the last one.

Ellie drops the check onto their table as she passes—she’s probably picked up on the quiet tension that’s settled over them once more.

“Have you seen—? Well, obviously you haven’t _seen it,_ it hasn’t come out yet. But—?”

“Your new movie? I’ve seen the trailer.” Cas picks off a chunk of sandwich and eats it, a funny little habit Dean still thinks is adorable. “Watched it again after I saw the rest of the interview. It seems… Different, now. Knowing that you—that you’re—”

“Yeah.” Dean nods. “Yeah, it is. When the screenwriter pitched me the idea it was a damn good idea. After I told her why it mattered to me, it became a story.”

“How does it end?”

And Dean knows somehow that Cas is not just asking about the film.

“It ends the way the characters want it to end,” he answers honestly, cautiously.

Cas looks at him the same way he did when they were kids. When they were younger and softer and hopelessly in love with each other. The same way that says 'I see right through you and I like you just the same.' But this time Dean thinks there’s another message, one that maybe he missed the first time around.

“Maybe it’s not my place to say this,” Cas begins gently but firmly. “And yet I think—I think I need to say this. To say it out loud, to you. I never wanted what happened between us. We—we deserved a happier ending.” Dean stares back at him, speechless. “Dean, I never wanted to break up with you. But I was still in school and you were way out here, what was I supposed to do? You had so many big dreams. I wasn’t going to be the boyfriend back home who held you down.”

“How could—? Why would you even _think_ —?” Dean pushes his glasses up to the top of his head and covers his face, which is surely beet red.

“Dean, we were—we were so _young_ and idealistic but—. I felt like I was making the choice that needed to be made.” When Dean peers at Cas through his fingers, the sadness in his face belies the harshness of his words. “I didn’t want to be kept a secret, truly, but I—. It wasn’t the distance, Dean. Or a lack of love. I loved you more than anything. But I wouldn’t hold you back. I couldn’t.”

“Let's get out of here.” Dean stands and leaves several bills at their table. What a goddamn movie cliché… but it’ll be worth it. He hopes. He meets Cas’s eyes again. “Together. Please.”

Cas follows him without a word. Back through the front of the restaurant—Dean doesn’t notice that Sam has already departed—and into the parking lot. Still without speaking they both climb into the Impala and Dean brings her to life, setting a course for his apartment.

The drive and the elevator ride are thankfully quick and Dean brings Cas into his living room before bursting.

“You wouldn’t have held me back, Cas. You were my wings. You know that. You knew that! Then! You knew that and you—you still—” Dean breathes deeply, chest heaving. “You still walked away.” He sits heavily on his leather couch. “I couldn’t give you enough, not everything you deserved. And I’m sorry for that.”

“What, because you were still in the closet? Dean, you were twenty-one, you didn't need to come out for me. It wasn’t safe for you.” Dean feels the cushion shift under Cas’s added weight. “All this time, I thought it was me. I couldn’t be a burden to you so I left hoping it would be good for you. But all this time you thought it was your fault.”

“Can ya blame me, Cas?” Dean draws his fingers under his glasses across his closed eyelids, feeling simultaneously exhausted and exhilarated. “I already felt like I was leaving my whole heart in Chicago. And then it was broken.”

“That’s why I left,” Cas tells him. “As soon as I could, to be frank. I finally graduated and felt like every corner of that city had a piece of you, was taunting me with the happiness I told myself I couldn’t have. I figured a little sunshine would help and I went to San Francisco.” Dean lifts his chin to meet Cas’s eyes again.

He carefully places his left hand palm up in the space between them.

“Ten years is a long time, Cas,” he starts, nervous, hopeful. “My life is different now. I’m a little bit different, too. But I never, not for one second, stopped loving you.” Dean closes his eyes at the feeling of Cas’s warm palm covering his own. “Maybe we can try something new, here.”

Cas squeezes his fingers gently. “I will love you for a lifetime, and probably long after that, too. If you can open your heart to me again, Dean, I promise I’m going to protect it. I’m going to cherish you and any and all time I can share with you.” They’ve drifted closer together on the couch, their thighs pressed together now. Cas raises his free hand to cup Dean’s cheek. “You’re really willing to give me another chance?”

“‘Course I am, Cas.” Dean leans into the touch. “I never—. D’y’know I never found someone else?”

Cas exhales shakily. “I—I mean I didn’t _know_ , for sure, I guess. But every time they connected you with someone in—in the tabloids or online. I did wonder.”

“Never,” Dean replies firmly, bringing his other hand up to brush over Cas’s where it rests on his cheek. “You?”

“People wanted me to go on dates.” Cas scoffs. “Hell, I sort of wanted to, or at least I felt like I was supposed to. But I couldn't do it. I didn't want to.”

Dean feels hot tears well up in his eyes. “I won’t let go this time, Cas. I’m not gonna give you up again.”

Cas leans into him and wraps his arms around Dean’s neck. “I hope not.” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to Dean’s hair. Dean winds his arms around Cas’s waist in response. “I certainly hope not.”

 **:** **_these hands had to let it go free / and this love came back to me_ ** **:**

**Author's Note:**

> [on tumblr](http://profound-boning.tumblr.com/post/155171637419/)
> 
> the shirt I said Charlie was wearing when she met Dean can be found on lookhuman right [here](http://www.lookhuman.com/design/54678-set-gaydar-to-stunning/3480bc-black-md?gclid=CJj8lcGBmtECFYO3wAodnAQCdg)
> 
> I also want to give credit to the photographer of that photo, who is named Darren Black (more info [here](http://www.malemodelscene.net/editorial/glorious-bastards-darren-black-papercut/)), but tbh the only reason I know it exists is because [zahra](http://prettyboydean.tumblr.com/) does these #tattooaesthetics posts and that's where I found [this](http://prettyboydean.tumblr.com/post/135470276965/) lil beauty


End file.
